


Each Place and Forever

by Chisotahn



Series: Reach Out universe [3]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chisotahn/pseuds/Chisotahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reality is a harsh mistress. After the events of Reach Out, the Investigation Team must help their leader find a new path through a world that's changed immeasurably from the one he knew, and it isn't going to be easy. Those who meddle in the affairs of gods rarely come out the same as they were before, after all...</p><p>Spoilers of varying degrees for Persona 4, Persona 3, and Persona 4 Arena.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be posted serially, though not on a set schedule because... well, reality is a harsh mistress! The previous fanfics in this series, strangestquiet's [Turn Away](http://archiveofourown.org/works/83086) and my [Reach Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/83403), are effectively required reading for this. I don't think it would make much sense otherwise!
> 
> Eternal thanks, as always, to Frigoris, my beta and my partner. ♥ I could not have written any of this without her. Thanks also to strangestquiet for writing Turn Away, and Em/safelybeds for prompting Turn Away on the P4 kink meme lo these many years ago. Thanks for giving me plotbunnies that ate my brain for literal years, you ~~jerks~~ wonderful people.
> 
> Enjoy!

  
_Here, when I say I never want to be without you,_  
 _somewhere else I am saying_  
 _I never want to be without you again. And when I touch you_  
 _in each of the places we meet,_

_in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying_  
 _and resurrected._  
 _When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life,_  
 _in each place and forever._

##### \-- Other Times and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem, Bob Hicok

 

 

Perhaps it had all been a dream.

That was what it felt like once they’d finally come together again to leave the beautiful place the TV world had become. Teddie had found the way out, though it was now shaped from entwined tree trunks instead of television sets, and they’d all tumbled out and into the reassuringly normal fluorescent light of Junes’ electronics department. It was exactly the way it should have been, all of it. 

Maybe he’d just hit his head for a while, or fallen asleep; dreamed it, imagined, maybe hallucinated. Something with a relatively normal explanation. 

But Naoto tugged her hat down over his grey hair, casting his face in shadow, and the team clustered around him in a tight knot to keep anyone else from seeing him. He was surrounded by their smiles and laughter as they made their way out of the store together, and when the automatic doors swished open it was to a warm breeze and the scent of cherry blossoms and the bottom fell out of Souji’s stomach again.

_That Shadow, the one that got past your guard... it kind of, uh. Killed you. It's March, dude._

The press of people around him felt abruptly crushing, too loud, too chaotic. Souji inhaled sharply and held it, trying calm his suddenly ragged breathing. He exhaled slowly and focused fiercely on his feet, taking one step after another with the group. This was absurd, his friends were protecting him, they were happy, and yet...

Souji swallowed, hard, his throat burning from the sudden effort of holding back tears, because if he opened his mouth he was fairly sure he’d incapacitate himself with his own emotions. As it was, it was good that everyone around him kept moving forward, because it kept him moving too. His friends’ words blended into a scattered haze, reminding him far too much of where he’d just been, of the fractured place that had been his only reality for so long.

_Six months._

He stumbled, but Yosuke’s fingers immediately threaded through his own and squeezed tight. “We’re going to Naoto’s apartment,” Yosuke whispered, but that just made Souji’s insides twist up even worse. They were going the wrong way and there was nothing he could do about it, no logical objection he could raise. It was the right decision, given that he had no idea what his next steps could possibly be. The thought of showing up at Dojima’s doorstep and explaining his miraculous return was definitely beyond his current capacity to handle, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. 

Cherry blossoms, blue skies, and everything was different. Even the friends surrounding him had all changed in an interim he hadn't experienced. There was an immeasurable difference between the Yosuke that had cringed away from his affections that last afternoon in the Junes food court, and the Yosuke who walked beside him now, holding on tight and refusing to let go no matter how many other people were around.

He couldn’t fault them for their happiness… and yet.

Yosuke hovered at his side constantly as they all crammed into Naoto’s apartment to celebrate. He didn’t eat much at dinner, eventually lapsing into just stirring the instant ramen with his chopsticks and watching the noodles swirl around in the styrofoam bowl. The thought of eating more made him feel vaguely nauseous, and neither the steak skewer Chie offered him nor the spread of hastily bought junk food were appealing.

Souji put the ramen aside with a small sigh and leaned forward, propping his chin up on one hand. The rest of the team were in high spirits from their triumphant victory, not to mention the even more miraculous recovery of their fallen leader. He understood that, even as their too-loud voices and their joy wore on him. He couldn’t muster anything but exhaustion.

"Hey, stop eating all my animal crackers!" Kanji bellowed, suddenly. Souji flinched hard, jostling the table and knocking over an open bottle of juice. The room erupted into mild chaos, Yukiko going for a towel and Teddie wailing about how he hadn’t _meant_ to eat all the animal crackers, the sound nearly drowning out Kanji’s apologies.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” Naoto said when Teddie paused to take a breath.

Souji just barely managed to stop himself from sighing with relief. “I am feeling pretty tired,” he admitted, and braced himself for the oncoming storm of farewells - Yukiko’s gentle embrace, Rise’s bright smile and tender hug, Chie clapping him on the back before adding to the hug train, Kanji giving him a particularly bone-crushing squeeze, and Teddie sniffling into his shirt. 

And then they were gone, leaving him, Yosuke, Naoto, and blessed silence. 

Yosuke gave Naoto a pleading look - “I, uh, Naoto, do you think I could maybe…”

Naoto glanced at Souji; it took him a moment to realize that she was waiting for his permission. What he wanted most right now was quiet… but he also didn’t want to be left totally alone. He nodded, once, and Naoto inclined her head. “I don’t have much in the way of spare bedding, but you’re welcome to what I have,” she told Yosuke.

The single spare futon was laid out within a few minutes; Naoto said good night to them both and vanished into her room, leaving the two of them alone. Souji got to his feet and moved over to the futon, settling down again with a low sigh. “Wish I had my pyjamas - I probably don’t even _have_ pyjamas any more,” and he’d meant it to be a joke, or something, but it came out wrong and Yosuke made a soft sound and went to his knees next to Souji, wrapping his arms around him.

“I should’ve picked up stuff for you at Junes, damn - I wasn’t thinking. I’ll get you whatever you need tomorrow, partner, promise.”

“Right,” Souji said with a sigh. “It’s… it’s okay, I just… it’s a lot to take in. I guess I didn’t really… really _understand_ until we came back.” He shuddered involuntarily as that ache in his throat returned, a knot of tension that still refused to release into proper tears. 

“Well, yeah, it’s not going to all get better in a day.” Yosuke shook his head. “I mean, I know you know that, and uh…” He hesitated.

“Don’t worry about it. There really isn’t anything that you - that anyone - can say that would help.” He leaned against Yosuke and closed his eyes, bringing one hand up to curl around Yosuke’s own and squeezing tight. Maybe if he just stayed here, he could find his center again - here, listening to the reassuring sound of Yosuke’s heartbeat. He was alive. They were _all_ alive.

Surely if they could fix that, they could fix anything. He tried to believe that, but optimism seemed so fleeting, so hard to grab onto. 

He was so tired. 

Yosuke was silent for a long moment. “Are you - you don’t, uh… you don’t regret…?”

A second, smaller shiver ran down Souji’s spine. “I regret letting that Shadow past my guard,” he said at last, tasting bile. He didn’t even remember what had happened - there had been a blur of movement, a faded memory of pain, and then the unrelenting cacophony of fractured sound and light that had been his experience of the ‘afterlife’. He swallowed, hard. “Don’t… don’t ask me any more than that right now, Yosuke, please.”

Yosuke let out a shaky breath. “Okay, partner,” he said, though he sounded reluctant. “Is it, um, okay if I share the futon?”

“Yeah.” Souji leaned over to flip back the covers, breaking the embrace. “It’s not a very big futon… is that fine for you?”

“Oh, yeah, of course, I’m just no- uh. I mean. Yes, I’ll be fine.” Yosuke’s smile was oddly tentative, and Souji was struck with a strange, unpleasant feeling that he didn’t really know _this_ Yosuke at all.

Still, he crawled under the covers, turning on his side and curling up a little; after a moment, Yosuke followed him, fitting himself against Souji and draping one arm around Souji’s waist. Souji let out a sigh and leaned into the touch, the warmth - familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It used to be that Yosuke would hardly touch him if someone else was in the house, and even when they snuck around, Yosuke was twitchy and flinched back any time he thought he might have heard approaching footsteps.

He’d wanted this so much, but not… not like this.

Yosuke brushed a soft kiss against the back of his neck. “If you need anything, just poke me, okay?” 

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” Souji replied, reaching for Yosuke’s hand and rubbing his thumb over the other boy’s wrist; for a moment, the pad of his thumb caught on a scar that hadn’t been there the last time he’d done this. Yesterday, six months ago, an eternity ago.

“G’night, partner,” Yosuke said quietly, and Souji could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“Good night,” he echoed, and if his own voice sounded a little hollow, Yosuke didn’t mention it.

 

…………………

 

“Good evening.”

The sense of faint forward motion prompted Souji to open his eyes, tensing automatically, though he relaxed as he realized he was in familiar surroundings. The Velvet Room, at least, hadn’t changed - still the same odd limousine interior, the same Igor, Margaret smiling at him, the look on her face gentle and radiant with joy. 

“It’s been some time, hasn’t it,” Igor continued, picking up some tarot cards that had been laid out on the table in front of him. “I must admit, I’m impressed. None of our guests have ever returned from such an… unusual situation.”

“I… suppose not,” Souji said, a little awkwardly.

“You managed to forge salvation from the bonds you had created, even after being swept into the abyss. Truly, you are an extraordinary guest,” Igor said with satisfaction. He swept his hand over the table, leaving behind a single card, face down. “It is a pity we won’t be meeting again… in this place, at least.”

“Wait… why?” Souji’s gaze flicked from Igor to Margaret. 

“You have no more need of our services,” she replied, picking up the explanation. “Look within yourself - what do you see?”

Surprised, Souji turned his thoughts inward, reaching automatically for his Personas, and found… one. Only one, but that one was bright and shining. “Where did they…”

“The gift of the Wild Card permits many things to happen,” Igor said, steepling his long fingers. “Even emptiness can be filled.” He reached down and flipped over the card on the table, revealing a card split into four quadrants - the same one Souji had used to summon Izanagi-no-Okami. “You understand, I am sure.”

Souji let out a long, slow breath. “Yes,” he said, after a moment. “And everything is over now anyway, isn’t it?”

Igor smiled, which was not terribly reassuring. “An old proverb comes to mind. ‘To whom much is given, much shall be required. It is impossible to shift the balance of the world without attracting… attention.”

Souji’s gaze narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“Simply that you should be on your guard,” Igor said. “The calm before the storm could last a long time, or very little. But I will be watching you, even if you are no longer our guest… it promises to be very interesting indeed.”

Which also wasn’t reassuring, but Igor rarely gave out any useful information once he got cryptic. “Thank you for the warning,” Souji said, finally.

Igor bowed. “Anything for such a fascinating… former guest. Take care.”

The Velvet Room began to fade around him, and without warning the floor dissolved into nothing. Souji stumbled and fell, and the silence swallowed him up. So different from the chaos that had been his world before his re-awakening… it was almost peaceful, drifting through this stark white stillness, watching it spread out around him, cracking off into the distance.

And then he blinked, and saw it for what it was, and panic surged through him. “No - _stop_ ,” he cried out, before it ate his words and stole his sight, leaving him in utter isolation even as he continued to fall. 

…………………

 

A soft movement woke Yosuke up; he blinked blearily at the unfamiliar walls and tried to remember where he was. Still dark, no sound other than his own breathing and-

Another shudder rippled through the blankets, and Yosuke remembered. _Naoto's apartment, and-_ "Souji?" he whispered, rolling over to face the other boy again, then paused. Souji was clearly still asleep, but his body was curled in slightly, tense and trembling, one hand gripping the blankets so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Yosuke made a despairing noise and shifted, wrapping his arms around Souji and pulling him close. "Souji... hey, you okay, partner?" he breathed, wincing as he felt another shudder run through Souji’s sleeping form.

It took a moment for Souji to wake up, and when he did, his eyes were unfocused in a way that made Yosuke deeply nervous. At last, though, he relaxed into Yosuke’s arms, his eyes glassy and afraid. "Yosuke... I woke you up, didn't I?"

"S'okay," Yosuke assured him, relieved. "Bad dreams or something?"

Souji winced. "Yeah." He pressed his forehead against Yosuke's and sighed, his breath tickling Yosuke's skin. "I was… there was _nothing_ , I was so… alone..."

"I’m right here," Yosuke said, more loudly than he meant to; he gave the door to Naoto's bedroom a guilty look before focusing on Souji again. "Right here, and I'm _not_ letting you go," he added, squeezing a little tighter in emphasis.

“I know,” Souji said, his voice tight; his grip on Yosuke was hard enough to hurt, but Yosuke didn’t say anything. “I… I don’t ever want to go back there, I don’t… I _can’t_ , please, don’t let me-”

“You won’t have to,” Yosuke said, his voice low and determined. “Never, I promise, partner…”

Souji shivered again, and then the faint tremble broke into racking sobs, just like before, on that hillside inside the reborn TV world. Yosuke made a soft, distressed sound and tried to pull Souji closer, hold him tighter, keep everything together as his best friend cried ugly tears against his chest.

Eventually, the tears slackened, and the tension flowed out of Souji’s body, leaving him limp and exhausted in Yosuke’s arms. “Yosuke…”

“It’s going to be okay, partner.”

Souji’s grip slackened a bit, though Yosuke had a sense it was more from fatigue than actual relief. “Just… stay here. Please.”

“Not going anywhere,” Yosuke promised, and held Souji tight until the other boy’s eyes lost focus and drifted closed again, until his breathing shifted to the gentler rhythm of sleep - but Yosuke stayed awake for a while longer, just watching and holding on.


	2. Chapter 2

Souji woke slowly to the sound of hushed conversation, the scent of coffee, and sunlight shining right in his face. He squinted, then pulled the blanket over his head, still feeling too exhausted to care why the light was wrong. He just wanted to sleep- 

And then everything came flooding back, and he bit back a groan. No, he wasn’t in his futon at home - he was in Naoto’s apartment, and everything was broken. He sat up slowly, a few sore muscles protesting the movement, because the futon really wasn’t quite big enough for two. He was all too aware that he’d slept in his clothes, and before he’d slept in them he’d fought in them, and he didn’t want to think back much further than that.

“Hey, look who’s finally awake,” came a familiar voice, and then Yosuke was there, dropping into a crouch at his side. “Good morning,” he said softly, and there was a radiant joy in the words that made everything seem a just a _tiny_ bit less terrible. 

“Morning,” Souji said, wishing he could summon up even half that joy. He knew his answering smile was crooked, but the fact that he was capable of it at all was kind of an improvement.

“Good morning,” and that was Naoto, and Yosuke blushed suddenly as if he’d forgotten she was there. She was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of something warm between her hands. “Did you sleep all right?”

Souji made a face. “Not… not really,” he admitted. “What time is it?”

"Just past ten. We saved you breakfast," Yosuke said. “Oh, and I went back to my place and grabbed some extra clothes - I can run out to Junes later and get you some better stuff, but I thought you might want to shower or something.”

“Actually, yeah - that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Souji brushed at his hopelessly wrinkled shirt and grimaced. “Thanks, partner.”

And there was that fond smile again, so openly affectionate, so different from before. “Any time,” Yosuke said, brushing a few strands of errant grey hair out of Souji’s face. “I can get the futon put away, and maybe then we can talk about what you need from Junes and stuff. Here.” Yosuke reached for his bag and pulled out a slightly rumpled set of clothes.

“Thanks, Yosuke.” Souji took a deep breath, then got to his feet, looking past Yosuke to Naoto. “And thank you for letting me stay, Naoto. Letting _us_ stay.”

“Of course.” She nodded towards the bathroom door. “Be careful with the shower - the hot water isn’t the most reliable.”

After taking care of his other needs, Souji turned on the water and stood there for a moment, breathing in the hot steam before stripping his clothes off. The shower was small, and Naoto's toiletries were largely the bare essentials, which suited him fine.

Souji stepped into the shower, wincing a bit as the hot water hit his skin and awakened old aches. One particularly sharp, bruising pain at his right temple made him flinch away automatically. The pain sent a strange chill through him, which was odd given that it wasn’t _that_ bad… and then he remembered his old glasses, the ones Yosuke had carried with him for so long, and how the right lens had been cracked as if by a blow to that part of his head.

He shuddered, leaning back against the cool tile and swallowing hard as what had been a vague sense of anxiety sharpened into something far more powerful, spiked with panic and adrenaline. One hand came up, fingers spreading over his right temple, where the pain had been, but there was no sign of physical injury. Not even a bump. 

Had that been the blow that killed him?

He slowly sank down to sit under the spray, wrapping his arms around himself and forcing himself to breathe deeply and evenly until the panic dissipated. Slowly, mechanically, he made himself reach for the shampoo and start washing his hair, because at least he could be clean if nothing else.

He heaved himself to his feet and started to rinse his hair and soap up, trying to think about the expression on Yosuke’s face, Naoto’s willing kindness, the triumph and joy the rest of the team had shown at his return. It helped, a little, but even thoughts of his friends were tinged with unease and a sense of guilt that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He spent a long time in the shower, trying to wash away every sign of his grief, until the water ran cold.

………………

 

True to his word, Yosuke had folded away the futon before joining Naoto in the kitchen. The two of them talked very deliberately about anything _but_ their current situation, and the conversation was just on the cusp of getting awkward when Souji came out of the bathroom.

Yosuke turned towards his best friend in relief, then stared. Souji was more solidly built than he was, and clothing that was comfortable on him was a bit too small on the other boy. “Nice,” he said, before he could think better of it. “I, uh… I mean, you look good in colors. Actual colors. Black and grey don’t count.”

Souji raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he said, dryly, but there was a small smile on his lips.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely. I should loan you my clothes more often, partner."

Naoto politely cleared her throat and Yosuke flushed, abruptly remembering that she was still in the room. "Uh, are you hungry? I can cook you an egg, if you want?" He stood up and grandly pulled one of the other chairs out from the table, hiding his embarrassment. 

Souji came over and took a seat, letting out a sigh that seemed more in the realm of ‘resigned to Yosuke’s cooking’ than ‘horrible crushing emotions’. “I’m just hungry enough to take you up on that.”

“Hmph.” Yosuke stuck his tongue out at Souji and went for the refrigerator and the hot plate. He hummed to himself as he moved about Naoto’s small kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread too and shoving it in the toaster oven on the counter. He could hear Souji and Naoto talking quietly, though he had to focus on what he was doing or breakfast would end up burnt to a crisp.

At last, though, he triumphantly put a plate down in front of Souji. “Egg, not burned! Toast, only a little singed! Tea, impossible to burn!” He folded his arms and shot Souji a cocky grin. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

Souji smiled, which was encouraging. “Thanks, Yosuke.” He took a long sip of the tea, then nodded. “Not bad.”

“Damn right.” Yosuke sat down in his chair again, still grinning.

Naoto cleared her throat, lightly. “Now that we’re all here - if you feel up to it, Souji-senpai, it would be a good idea to discuss our course of action.”

Souji stopped eating and visibly steeled himself. "Of course,” he said, with a sharp nod. “I’d like to move forward as soon as possible.”

“H-hey, whoa,” Yosuke protested, his stomach twisting up unpleasantly. “Do we have to talk about this stuff _now_? It hasn’t even been a day, I mean-”

“It’s been six months,” Naoto said, tilting her head to one side ever so slightly.

“Yosuke…” Souji said quietly, putting down his toast and reaching for Yosuke’s hand instead. Souji was shaking a little, but his grip was still firm, resolute. “It’s not too soon. I can handle this.”

Souji’s voice was gentle, without even a hint of rebuke, but being contradicted made Yosuke feel weirdly squirmy and uncomfortable. But that was stupid, ridiculous. Souji was _alive_ ; the worst thing he’d ever experienced had been fixed, so it was only a matter of time before all the other pieces fell into place, too. 

Right?

“Okay, partner,” Yosuke said, squeezing his hand back. “If you say so.”

"I don't think putting it off will make it any easier," he said, but the tenseness in his grip belied his calm tone of voice. "It's just... very strange to think about. It still doesn’t seem real."

"Understandable, given the extraordinary circumstances - it's not exactly a common issue," Naoto said, wryly. "Still, you must know that we can't hide you forever - and even if we could, I don't think we _should_. I can't imagine the goddess brought you back to spend your life in hiding."

"I don’t know what we should do, though.” Yosuke shook his head. "It's not like we can go 'oh, whoops, thought he was dead but turns out he's not,' right?"

"Souji-senpai's death was presumed to be connected to the rest of the murders. The evidence was well documented," Naoto replied. "There is simply too much to refute through any 'normal' explanation. We can't possibly deny that he died six months ago. To show up with him now, alive…” She grimaced. ”I can't judge precisely what the public reaction would be, but I doubt it would be a pleasant experience for any of us."

Yosuke felt a shiver run through Souji's body. “But… my uncle,” Souji said, after a moment. “He should know, I just… I can’t let him, I…” He had to pause to take a deep breath. “I know Dojima. He’s blaming himself for my death,” he continued, and Yosuke could feel the effort the other boy was putting forth to keep his voice as steady as it was. “I can’t let that continue. And Nanako-”

Souji’s voice cracked, and he fell silent for a long moment. "I know it will make things messy," he continued at last, "but I want to see my family again. I have to tell them the truth.”

"Of course. I understand,” Naoto said gently. “But how do you propose we break the news? It will be quite a shock, and they will most certainly demand explanations. The truth may be unbelievable to them."

"I can't think of anything else that could possibly be 'believable'," Souji said with a sigh. "I think they'll just have to accept worlds inside televisions and fighting goddesses. The only thing I _can_ tell them is the truth."

"It would probably be best to begin with Dojima-san," Naoto said. "I could bring him back here fairly easily, I think, and we can explain the circumstances afterwards. Your presence should be more than enough to convince him of the truth of our claims."

Souji took another deep, measured breath. “When? Today?”

Yosuke stared at him. “Souji, you - we _just_ got back, dude!”

“Yosuke’s right,” Naoto interjected. “It may be best for you to acclimatize to your current state before you introduce new variables.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “Though you will probably need to remain in hiding. The chances of someone recognizing you are simply too great. You are - were - too well-known here."

Souji glanced away from Naoto at the word _were_. "I understand all of that, logically, but it’s still not an easy thing to… I don’t _want_ to wait. I want everything to go back to normal!” Yosuke winced at the anguish in his tone.

Naoto leaned forward, catching Souji’s gaze and holding it as she spoke. “I sympathize with your feelings, senpai. Still, taking a few days to allow yourself to regain your mental and emotional footing may be a good choice. I won’t press the issue, though - it is your decision.” 

“Let us take care of you for a little while, partner. You’ve been through a lot,” Yosuke put in, quietly. 

Souji let out a ragged sigh. “Fine,” he said, releasing Yosuke’s hand. “If it will make you happy.” His voice leveled out to a near-monotone that Yosuke had heard before, usually before they’d had a fight; Yosuke glanced at Naoto and saw his own worries reflected on her face. But Souji kept going as if nothing had happened, retrieving his toast and taking a bite. 

“Everything will be okay. Just rest and take care of yourself, partner,” Yosuke said, trying to sound carefree and cheerful and not at all sure he managed it. “Um. So… uh…” He cast around for something else to say before inspiration struck. “Hey, uh, Naoto… you want me to get some more food? The fridge is looking pretty sparse.”

“That would be wonderful, actually,” Naoto said. “Let me give you the spare key, just in case I’m gone when you get back. I am expected at the station today, so I should at least make an appearance.” She pushed her chair back and got up, heading back into her bedroom.

“I can grab anything you need too, Souji,” Yosuke continued. “Clothes that actually fit?” He forced a smile and got to his feet. “Toothbrush? What else?”

“...Everything.” Souji looked vaguely lost again, but it only lasted a moment before his expression smoothed out to a neutral mask. “I guess I can’t pay you back right now, but…”

“Geez, don’t worry about it.” Yosuke leaned down and wrapped his arms around Souji. “I’ll get a bunch of stuff. You can count on me, partner. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

Souji seemed to resist the hug for a moment, but then he sighed and some of the tension went out of his frame. “Okay. Thanks, Yosuke.” He leaned back into Yosuke’s embrace, and they stayed like that for a long moment, breathing just a little out of sync with each other, until Naoto came back into the room. Yosuke flinched reflexively, because old habits apparently died hard, but her only response was a relieved look.

“I made a small list,” she said, holding out a piece of paper, a key, and a few folded bills. “If you don’t mind.”

“Aw, don’t worry about the money, Naoto - I owe you for the night, anyway.”

“If you’re sure,” Naoto said, looking gratified. “Thank you, Yosuke-senpai.”

Reluctantly, Yosuke let Souji go. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. “You’ll be okay, Souji?”

“As much as I can be,” Souji said; he’d finished the toast, at least, and was working on the egg now. 

“I’ll come right back when I’m done, promise.”

With that, Yosuke let himself out, closing the door behind him and pausing on the doormat to slip his shoes back on. Part of him was running through the mental list of what Souji would need…. and part of him was squirming inwardly at the unpleasant tension between the two of them. 

But that was silly. Everything was going to be okay. Everything _had_ to be okay. He loved Souji, right? What more did they need? 

Yosuke forcefully shoved the thought away and headed down the stairs. 

…………………

 

After Yosuke left, Souji stared at the door. He could, in theory, go out there right now - go out, go _home_ , get it over with. A large part of him longed to do just that, but he’d sort of promised that he wouldn’t. That he’d take care of himself, as if a few days would make anything better.

His head hurt. 

The sound of running water distracted him, and he turned to see Naoto filing the sink, the breakfast dishes lined up on the counter. Instantly, the sense of guilt returned, this time for being so ungracious when Naoto had opened her home to him without a moment’s hesitation. “Let me help you with that,” he said quietly, pushing away his bitterness and moving to join her at the sink. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Naoto said with a smile, one that Souji found surprisingly easy to return; for all that he knew Naoto the least out of any of the team, the fact that they had only a little shared history actually made things easier right now. “I’ll do whatever I can to assist, Souji-senpai. I’m just glad I was able to offer you a place to stay.”

“Still, I’m grateful.” Souji hesitated, then reached for a mug and dumped the contents into the sink. “How… how has everyone been?” he asked, finally. “I feel like you know them better than I do at this point.”

And oh, it hurt to admit that. He shoved the discomfort away as best he could and picked up the kitchen sponge, dunking the mug into the soapy water. Doing something useful would help, surely. 

“As well as possible, considering the circumstances,” she said, after a moment’s thought. “They did admirably in your absence. I was - _am_ \- honored to be a part of this team.” Her smile was small, but genuine.

“I’m glad,” he said, returning the smile for an instant before it faded again. He swallowed. “And… my uncle?”

She glanced at him. “Your earlier assessment was correct, unfortunately. He blames himself.”

Souji winced. “Tell me?” he said, after a moment, because he _needed_ to know.

“... He grew even more obsessed with the case,” Naoto said, quietly. “And Adachi being the true killer didn’t help matters, particularly given that Adachi denied any responsibility for your death. Most people didn’t believe that, but Dojima-san…” She shook her head. “I think he was torn between wanting an easy answer and wanting to salvage some tiny shred of trust in his former partner.”

Souji let out a shuddering breath. “Nanako?”

“Mmm. We see her on occasion.” Naoto took the mug from Souji’s hands and rinsed it clean. “The others visit her more than I do, but I can tell that she’s withdrawn and I know she misses you terribly. Ask Rise-chan or Kanji-kun, they visited her last week, and-” She stopped short. “Senpai?”

“I’m… it’s fine,” Souji managed, turning away in a vain effort to hide his tears. 

Her expression turned sympathetic. “I can stop. There’s no need to cause yourself additional pain. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

Souji wiped at his eyes, then grabbed a plate and dunked it in the water with more force than necessary. He didn’t really want to think about any of this, because this was a conversation he never should have had the chance to have - and yet here they were.

He took a deep breath. “So… that’s now, I guess. What happened right after?”

Naoto put down the mug and turned to face him, looking him right in the eyes, her expression even more serious than usual. “Are you certain you want to know? As I said, there’s no need to-”

“I need to know,” he said, before she could finish the sentence. “I just want to get it over with so I can stop trying to imagine what _might_ have happened.”

“Understood.” Naoto said, slowly. “I did save a number of materials related to the... incident. Would you prefer that, or would you rather I tell you?”

“I think reading it might be better,” he said, after a long moment. At least that way, he had a vague hope of maintaining some emotional distance, without seeing the pain he’d caused everyone reflected on someone else’s features. 

“I’ll leave it out for you when I leave, then.” She turned to glance at the clock on the wall. “Which should be soon, unfortunately. Will you be all right alone?”

“I think so.” Souji turned back to the dishes and started rinsing. “Yosuke shouldn’t be gone too long. I may wait and not look at anything until he comes back.”

“True.” She accepted the bowl he held out for her to dry. “If you’re sure, then. I admit I am not entirely sure how to best tend to your psychiatric needs.” She smiled at him, her expression so wry that he couldn’t help but let out a tiny chuckle.

“Yeah, me neither. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing a lot for me, letting me stay here, talking to me right now, all of it.”

“One of my regrets was that I hadn’t gotten to know you better,” Naoto said, stacking up the now-clean dishes. “I am fortunate to have the chance to remedy that.”

Souji smiled. “So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I generally don't post backstory 'off-camera', so to speak, but I thought these notes with regards to timing and history were warranted. 
> 
> \- Souji died sometime after Naoto's rescue, late September-early October-ish, hence the comments about not having as much of a shared history with Naoto. (Incidentally, Souji also didn't finish Naoto's social link before getting killed, hence why in Reach Out Naoto still has Sukona-Hikona while the others have their more evolved Personas. However, I suspect that last scene with them just might count as a rank up...) 
> 
> \- Nanako was not kidnapped and thrown into the TV in this timeline; instead, one of her classmates was the Investigation Team's first rescue without Souji. This also means that there was no car crash and she and Dojima were never in the hospital - I thought they'd been through enough with Souji dying! 
> 
> I'm happy to include more random side notes in other updates if people are interested in this kind of thing - when I write AUs, I come up with a lot of information that never makes it into the fic but that I love talking about!


	3. Chapter 3

Yosuke hadn’t returned by the time Naoto left, but true to her word she placed a file on the kitchen table before saying goodbye. The file was surprisingly thick and seemed well-used, the edges worn and edged with paper clips. It was also ridiculously intimidating for an inanimate object, and Souji gave it a wide berth, warring between dread and morbid curiosity. 

Instead of reading the file, he rattled around the apartment and tidied things up a little bit more, though that only served as a distraction for a few minutes. Looking out the window wasn’t a good distraction either - all he could see was the tops of cherry trees in full bloom, their blossoms blocking any view of the street. The television was an option, but not a particularly appealing one.

Souji finally gave in after ten minutes of aimless pacing, heading for the kitchen table and sitting down on the edge of one of the chairs. He hesitated only a moment before picking up the file and opening it in a convulsive movement, not giving himself any more chances to avoid looking.

The first thing his eyes landed on was a newspaper clipping. 

The words were clinical, meaningless, describing something that had happened to someone else, as long as he didn’t look at his own name too hard, as long as he skipped past everything after the words _survived by_ , and then he got to the memorial details and _ashes interred_ and he had to put the article down, taking deep, even breaths in an effort to regain his composure. _Ashes_ and _survived by_ and memorial altars with his school picture on them, incense drifting past in slow swirls...

Souji exhaled, long and slow, then carefully put the clipping aside. He flipped through some of the other papers in the file, trying to force himself to focus, to absorb the reality of what had happened. There were a few other newspaper articles, then something on heavier paper, folded up with the seal of the Inaba Police Department on it.

He paused, trying to decide whether or not to unfold the document and take a look, when a gust of wind tore the thing out of his hand. He only just kept his grip on the file folder, but the papers within whirled away and scattered like a flock of frightened birds.

… But he hadn’t opened the window, had he? He turned, letting the empty file folder fall, and saw the god.

 _No, Persona, Persona, it’s just my Persona_ , he tried to tell himself, but he couldn’t seem to make the word stick to the shining figure standing in front of him. Souji slowly rose to his feet. Why was it here, outside of the TV world? Izanagi-no-Okami didn’t look any different than it had when they’d fought Izanami the day before, but they _had_ been fighting a goddess then. Myths and legends seemed only natural in that otherworld. Standing in Naoto’s apartment, though...

The god - _Persona, damnit_ \- was utterly still save for the faint flutter of its coat. It looked down at him, as if appraising him; Souji stared back, his skin prickling under the Persona’s intense scrutiny. He held his ground, lifting his chin a little. In his mind, he reached for the place where he called his Personas. Where there had once been many there was now just one, shining, radiant, almost too much to contain. It made Souji's teeth clench and his ears ring, but he could feel their connection. It was him and he was it. Somehow.

Izanagi-no-Okami nodded once, and Souji felt its approval resonate through him. It extended one hand towards him, beckoning. “What do you-” Souji began, taking a step towards his Persona.

It was just one step, but it made Naoto’s apartment melt away, walls replaced by the transformed landscape of the TV world. A breeze ruffled his hair and made the long grasses around them ripple in waves. The rest of the words died in Souji’s throat, and he breathed in the scent of green growing things. Izanagi-no-Okami stood a short distance away, once again perfectly motionless, his presence still imposing despite their new surroundings. Souji took a deep breath to steady himself before taking a few more steps forward to stand at Izanagi-no-Okami’s side.

Izanagi-no-Okami raised one arm and pointed straight up, and Souji tilted his head back, reflexively shading his eyes with one hand. Another gust of wind brought a sterile tang along with it, so sharp that it nearly made him cough. But there was nothing overhead but a cloud.

… No. Not a cloud.

A chill ran down Souji’s spine as the sky itself began to bow inward, as if it were a physical barrier under tremendous pressure. What he had thought was a cloud was the beginning of a fissure, spreading rapidly outward in straight lines and sharp right angles, sending audible cracking sounds echoing against the distant hills. It felt _wrong_ , the most unnatural thing he’d ever seen, and his skin crawled. 

As the gaps widened, the antiseptic reek worsened. Behind the cracks, peeking through at every break, was a strange, sharp absence. Souji stared at it, trying to parse it; the best he could come up with was _white_ and _sterile_ , but even assigning those descriptions to it seemed wrong somehow. It was simply... _nothing_.

With a sharp snap, the sky above them shattered and the world seemed to shred into a wild cacophony far too much like the eternal scattering he’d just escaped. Souji cried out and hunched over, curling in on himself. He desperately squeezed his eyes shut, his hands covering his ears, but it didn’t do any good. It was too much, too much sound and light, too much chaos, too much pressure, and - paradoxically - too much of that awful aching nothingness. Souji screamed, or thought he did. He couldn’t tell the difference. 

And then a firm hand gripped his shoulder, steadying him like an anchor in a storm. Souji jolted, looking up reflexively, and met the unknowable gaze of the god who stood above him, between him and the breaking of the world.

Something in Izanagi-no-Okami’s eyes resonated in him, taking his breath away; something as _right_ as the sky’s shattering was wrong. Something in his soul rang like a bell, answering the god when he couldn’t get the words out.

And he felt them. 

_All_ of them.

Just flashes, just touches, but not disorienting the way the ‘afterlife’ had been for him - no, this was different, and he couldn’t breathe for the power of it. He smelled the tea Hisano was brewing and felt her laughter; felt Ai’s pleasure at finding something perfect in the shopping district of Okina. The reassuring, repetitive thump of the basketball under Kou’s hands; the smooth brightness of Ayane’s trombone. Chie and Yukiko together, laughing and smiling as they talked; Kanji working away on a project while Teddie peppered him with questions. Rise humming contentedly to herself as she removed tofu from the press; Naoto at the police station, her thoughts swift and sure; Yosuke loading things onto his bike, worries over a deep well of contentment. 

Dojima, his head in his hands, strength under pressure; Nanako, quiet and unsure, stroking her hands over the purring sides of a stray cat Souji had once fed.

And more, so many more, some stronger than others but all _real_ , all changed by his absence but not destroyed. Every bond he had forged was still there, and he stood in the center of them and shook with the intensity of it as that resonance set them all singing - like standing unmoved under the crash of a wave, like how he’d felt before the goddess, perfectly centered. Right. _Whole._

_**Yes.**_

The voice of the god overrode everything, that single word rich with approval, and when it faded the sense of overwhelming awareness went with it. He stumbled back, his legs failing him at last…

… and found himself on the floor of Naoto’s apartment, breathless. 

Souji lay there for a moment and closed his eyes, trying to take it all in, everything from the shattering sky to the resonance with the god to the last sense of his connections with others. He felt disoriented, as if he couldn’t entirely trust the floor under him not to suddenly shift into soft, waving grasses again. As if the boundaries were blurring.

After a few minutes, he slowly sat up, opening his eyes at last once he was upright. Souji blinked and let out a shaky chuckle at the sight of the room. All around him were the scattered papers from Naoto’s file, just as the wind had left them - the wind that had evidently come out of the other world, carried by the god. So it hadn’t entirely been a dream...

He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

………………

Yosuke was pretty proud of himself, honestly - he’d managed to get himself and all of his purchases back to Naoto’s apartment in one piece, which wasn’t a bad achievement considering how many bags he’d ended up with. He locked up his rattletrap bike and hung as many of the bags off his arms as he could, leaving himself just enough mobility to get Naoto’s door open. He nearly tripped on the way up the stairs, but it was better than having to make multiple trips.

“I’m back!” he proclaimed as he pushed the door open and stumbled inside. 

No response.

“... Souji?” A jolt of unease sent the bags crashing to the floor. Yosuke pivoted sharply, scanning the apartment for any sign of the other boy, then heaved a sigh of relief as he realized Souji was sitting on the couch. “Sheesh, partner, way to scare a guy-”

No response. Not even a twitch in his direction. Souji was there, all right, but he was staring unmoving at the blank TV screen, as if he wasn’t even aware Yosuke was in the room. “Souji? Hey-” Yosuke said, worry overtaking him; he hurried to Souji’s side and shook his shoulder. “Hey, partner! Are you okay?!” 

Souji blinked. “Yosuke?” he said slowly, looking dazed.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen? You’re not sick or something, are you?” Yosuke reached up and rested the back of his hand against Souji’s forehead, hoping he’d be able to tell if the other boy had a fever or something. 

“I… no, I’m not, I’m… I’m fine,” Souji said, absently pushing Yosuke’s hand away. 

Yosuke pulled his hand back; the response, not to mention the gesture, hadn’t been very reassuring. “Are you _sure_?” he pressed. “I mean, you’ve been through a lot, and you look kind of pale. Maybe you should lay down-”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Souji said sharply, and the irritation in his voice felt like a physical blow. It must have shown on Yosuke’s face, though, because Souji immediately softened. “... Sorry, Yosuke. I was just…” He paused. “Thinking.”

For a moment, Yosuke considered being irritated right back, but it didn’t seem worth it. He let out a long breath. “Okay, okay… just don’t scare me like that next time, geez,” he sighed, glancing away. His gaze landed on the fallen Junes bags, and he looked at them blankly for a moment before jumping to his feet. “ _Damnit_ , the eggs-”

Yosuke knelt down next to the shopping bags, feeling around for the one with the eggs in it, and… yep, there it was, complete with raw egg oozing out of the carton, slopping over onto the other groceries and out onto Naoto’s floor via a small hole in the side of the bag. “Ugh…”

He heard movement behind him, and then Souji was standing at his side. “Did some of them break?”

“Only most of them, yeah,” Yosuke grumbled. He didn’t look up at Souji, but the other boy immediately went into the kitchen; he heard the sound of running water before Souji returned, holding out a damp paper towel in his direction. 

“... Thanks,” Yosuke said with a sigh, taking the paper towel and mopping up the broken egg before gingerly picking the bag up and peeking inside. “Hopefully they didn’t _all_ break.”

“Here, I’ll get that stuff cleaned up,” Souji said quietly, reaching down to take the bag from him.

As Souji headed back to the kitchen, Yosuke sat back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sort through his own feelings. He’d felt so… so raw, so lonely and lost without Souji, an imposter trying to poorly fill in the gaps his partner had left behind. He’d spent so many nights thinking about what he’d do differently if he had another chance, never expecting that he’d actually get one… but nothing was going the way he’d imagined, and he couldn’t quite grasp why.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie. “I washed off the other stuff and put it away,” Souji said, picking up the nearest Junes bag with his other hand. “Only four of the eggs broke, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“That’s good,” Yosuke said awkwardly, then reached for the other bags as a distraction, pushing them in the general direction of the couch. “Um, here - I got you some stuff.”

Souji blinked as if only now seeing the sheer number of bags around them. “I think you got me all of Junes.”

Yosuke gave him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, well… nothing but the best for my partner, right?” He got up and started moving bags from the floor to the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. “If I forgot anything, I can go back and get it later.”

“It looks like you were really thorough, actually.” Souji sat down next to him, a bag in hand; he pulled out a white button-down shirt out and checked the tag before folding it up neatly. “Clothes in my size, toiletries, a towel…”

“I got you a bag to put everything in, too,” Yosuke said, rummaging until he found the small folded duffel. “Oh, and… uh.” The other thing had seemed like a good idea at the time, but he wasn’t sure anymore.

Souji gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

“Er… well, I thought it might be nice if you had a phone again.” Yosuke pulled the box out of the duffel bag and handed it to Souji. “I mean, that way we can keep in touch - I mean, ‘we’ like all of us, not just me, but definitely also me, uh, and if you don’t like it I can take it back, no problem, but it’s just a cheap one for now with a real basic plan, though if you want something nicer I can get that, I just didn’t know what you wanted, so…” He ran out of words and came to an awkward halt.

Souji slowly turned the box over in his hands. “How much did you spend on all this?” he asked, after a moment.

“Dude, don’t worry about it. The money doesn’t matter. You’re more important,” Yosuke blurted out, feeling his cheeks color on the last words; he suppressed the urge to look away and made himself look Souji in the eyes instead. “Well, you _are_ , damnit.” 

Souji smiled, and the expression was soft and fond and everything Yosuke had hoped for. “Thank you,” he said quietly, putting the box aside and pulling Yosuke into his arms instead. 

It took Yosuke by surprise - he’d been expecting maybe more hand-holding, like this morning - but he definitely wasn’t complaining. He made a soft noise and buried his head against Souji’s shoulder. “I missed this. I missed _you_ ,” he mumbled.

Souji tensed, then relaxed with a sigh that ruffled the hairs on the back of Yosuke’s neck. “I know. I missed you, too,” he said, lips brushing the soft skin under Yosuke’s ear. He followed up with a kiss to the same spot, and Yosuke shuddered. 

It was hardly the first time they’d embraced since Souji’s return, but everything before had been comfort, reassurance, confirmation of the other’s presence and the fact that they were alive. This, though… this felt different. Like before, except without the undercurrent of anxiety on his part that had been a constant of their interactions back then, longing that constantly warred with fear.

_Careful, idiot, they’re here!_

How many times had he replayed that last kiss in his memories and hated himself for it?

Souji was still tracing his lips down Yosuke’s neck when Yosuke moved, pushing Souji back against the couch with both hands and shifting to straddle Souji’s lap. Souji made a startled sound that quickly turned into something pleased and incoherent as Yosuke kissed him, deep and long and with all the passion he’d been too afraid to show Souji before. He felt one of Souji’s hands come up and tangle in his hair, holding him tight.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard, and Souji’s face was flushed. “Yosuke-”

“I’m not hiding any more,” Yosuke said fiercely. “I just - I _meant_ what I said yesterday, partner. I love you.” He met Souji’s gaze, refusing to turn away and give in to old instincts. Souji reached for him, cupping his cheek; Yosuke sighed and leaned into the touch. “I’m sorry it took so damn long for me to figure it out,” he murmured, turning his head to kiss Souji’s palm.

Souji gently stroked the pad of his thumb along Yosuke’s cheek. “I love you, too,” he said, quietly.

Yosuke had meant to chuckle in response, really, he had, but it came out sounding more like a sob. The power of this precious second chance left him feeling humbled and utterly defenseless, and he quickly rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah, well…” he began, awkwardly, but his words trailed off as he looked at Souji. 

_God_ , he was lucky.

He leaned forward to kiss Souji again, slow and tender at first, until Yosuke parted Souji’s lips with his tongue. The other boy made an inarticulate, needy sound and allowed Yosuke to push him back down onto the couch. 

All tenderness was forgotten then, their kisses growing frantic and needy. Yosuke ground his hips forward against Souji, reveling in the feel of Souji’s answering movements beneath him. He broke the kiss to breathe, taking a short, gasping breath before ducking his head to nip and suck at the side of Souji’s neck and the line of his collarbone. Souji retaliated, moving his hands down to grab at Yosuke’s hips and pull him closer still. 

And oh, how he’d missed this - the way Souji shivered as he drew the tip of his tongue along one earlobe, the way Souji’s fingers tightened almost painfully against his skin as if he couldn’t hold on tightly enough. The warmth of their bodies pressed against each other, the little breathy noises Souji made when he was turned on, Souji’s lips, Souji’s tongue-

Yosuke jerked and shivered, nearly losing control and coming in his pants. _No, no, not yet._ He quickly pushed himself up and slipped to the floor in front of Souji, hands eagerly fumbling at the other boy’s pants.

Souji inhaled sharply. “Yosuke-” 

"Hmm?" Yosuke said, thoroughly distracted as he tugged Souji’s zipper down; he could see the tantalizing bulge of Souji’s erection straining at the fabric of his boxers. Yosuke licked his lips and reached for the waistband.

"W-wait, Yosuke." Souji said, tangling his fingers through Yosuke’s hair again. 

Yosuke frowned slightly and sat back on his heels, looking up at Souji. "Partner?"

Souji's face was flushed, his breathing ragged. "We, uh..." He swallowed thickly. "We… probably shouldn't do this on Naoto's couch."

Yosuke stared at Souji for a moment, then groaned, slumping forward to practically faceplant into the couch cushions. “Aw, _damnit_ ,” he mumbled. “You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right.” Yosuke wanted nothing more than to keep going, but… well, the thought of Naoto walking in on them was a pretty big buzzkill. He wasn’t going to hide anymore, but there were _absolutely_ limits. “Sorry..”

"I'm sorry too," Souji said wryly. He stroked Yosuke's hair affectionately before sitting up straight, zipping his pants up again and shifting awkwardly. “Sometimes I hate being right.” 

Yosuke chuckled and got up to readjust himself and straighten his clothing out a little bit. He flopped on the couch next to Souji and reached for the other boy’s hand, twining their fingers together. “So… now what?”

"Hmm... I don't know." Souji leaned comfortably against him, pressing a couple kisses against his neck. Yosuke hummed in the back of his throat, nuzzling Souji's cheek for a moment before finding his lips and leaning in even closer.

The kiss was starting to return to previous levels of intensity when Souji broke it off. "Okay,” Souji said, breathlessly. "We really… _really_ should stop. You - you go sit over there. You're too tempting." He playfully pushed Yosuke towards the other end of Naoto’s small couch. 

Yosuke laughed and obediently scooted over. "Should we pretend that we're watching a movie or something too, just in case Nanako walks in on us?"

_Shit!_

Souji's smile fell away instantly, and Yosuke could have kicked himself. _Naoto._ He'd meant to say _Naoto!_ Their flirting had felt so much like old times that his tongue had slipped. He covered his face with one hand. "Damnit, I’m sorry-"

"No… no. It's okay," Souji said, but Yosuke could tell the damage had been done. All of the previous humor was gone from Souji’s face and that wan, haunted look had returned. Yosuke redoubled his mental kicking, then sighed and cuddled up next to Souji, taking his hand again. They sat together silently, Souji staring off into space while Yosuke resisted the urge to fidget. At least his screwup had effectively killed his boner, but… 

"S-so,” Yosuke said, finally, desperate to come up with something to talk about and change the gloomy mood, "What were you thinking about when I came in earlier? You seemed pretty lost in thought." When Souji didn’t immediately reply, he squeezed the other boy’s hand. “Souji?”

“Sorry, just… trying to think about how to describe it.” And there was that faint curl of unease in Yosuke’s gut again, though he couldn’t say why. The silence stretched between them for a few minutes before Souji finally spoke again. “It’s about… my Persona, at least partially.”

“Which one?”

“There’s only one now,” Souji said, slowly, as if he were feeling out his words carefully. “Just Izanagi-no-Okami. I can't feel any of the others, but it doesn't feel like they’re missing, exactly. If that makes any sense.”

Yosuke blinked at him. Souji with only one Persona was a weird thought, but… "No, that totally makes sense. I saw what happened when Izanagi… uh, Izanagi-no-Okami showed up. All your Personas kinda came together and then bam, there he was."

“Mmm.” Souji looked down at their entwined hands again. “Well, that explains some of it, I suppose.” He hesitated. “Have you noticed anything odd about your Persona?”

"Uh…” Yosuke mentally reached for his Persona, then shrugged. “I dunno, not really? I mean, I don't think about Susano-o that much unless I'm inside the TV."

“I see.” There was another long pause. “So… last night… I guess it turned into a nightmare, but it didn’t start out that way. I started out dreaming of the Velvet Room - that used to happen a lot, when I first came to Inaba. You said you’d gone there too?”

“Oh, right - yeah, after you, um…” Yosuke tightened his grip on Souji’s hand. “Well. I dreamed about that place sometimes, and then I went there for real, uh. A few days ago? Geez, feels like it was way longer. But yeah, I met the guy with the nose, uh…”

Souji gave him a wry grin that wasn’t quite reflected in his eyes. “Igor. And Margaret?”

“The blonde?” Yosuke guessed. “Yeah. What is that place, anyway?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ve been able to go there ever since we got our Personas. Igor and Margaret helped me the whole way through… but then, last night, Igor told me that I wouldn’t be needing them any more. And he told me to be on my guard.” Souji took a deep breath. “And Izanagi… I don’t think I was dreaming.”

A chill ran down Yosuke’s spine. “Be on your guard? What? Why? Don’t tell me there’s something else we have to deal with!”

Souji’s expression had changed to something distant, focused inward, and Yosuke had the uneasy sense that the other boy was drawing away from him, for all that Souji hadn’t physically moved at all. “I… I’m not sure,” he said, after a silence that stretched out a little too long for Yosuke’s comfort. “But. I saw Izanagi today - here, in the apartment, not in a dream or in my head. And he showed me something…”

His words trailed off. “What?” Yosuke pressed, after a moment, trying not to let his rising sense of anxiety spill over. 

“It’s… it’s hard to put into words,” Souji said, sounding a little frustrated. “It was… very overwhelming. Some of it was good-” He smiled suddenly, as if remembering something fond, something wonderful, but the expression faded quickly. “And some of it wasn’t.”

“Maybe you just fell asleep on the couch or something? You’ve been through a lot, and I dunno how well you slept last night, so…” Yosuke relaxed a bit and gave Souji’s hand another gentle squeeze. “I mean, there’s no more Shadows, the TV world isn’t dangerous any more, Adachi’s behind bars. There aren’t any more loose ends. It’s over, partner,” he said quietly. 

Souji let out a long breath. “I… I’m not sure. I don’t think I was dreaming. There was…” He fell silent again, then shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he repeated, sounding vaguely frustrated. 

Yosuke swallowed his own rising irritation - not with Souji, exactly, but with the whole situation. He was so _tired_ of cryptic bullshit. “You wanna think about it some more? Maybe take anot- uh, take a nap or something? I can put this stuff away,” he said, carefully.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Souji admitted, releasing Yosuke’s hand with a sigh. “You going to be okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll even get started on dinner for tonight.” Yosuke grinned, though he knew some of it was stupid bravado. “Breakfast went fine, didn’t it? Wait until you taste curry, Yosuke-style.”

Souji raised one eyebrow. “Just as long as it’s not Mystery Food X, Yosuke-style,” he said, giving Yosuke a wry grin. 

“Hey, I’m insulted,” Yosuke said, putting on his best mock-offended look. “It’ll be delicious, partner. Just wait and see.”

Souji leaned over and kissed him, a soft, sweet brush of lips. “I trust you,” Souji said, quietly, and Yosuke knew he was talking about more than curry. 

“It’ll be okay, partner. Promise,” Yosuke managed.

Souji got up then, and Yosuke retreated to the kitchen as Souji laid out the futon and curled up into it. By the time Yosuke had unpacked everything he’d bought at Junes, putting the groceries away and tucking the things for Souji into the duffel bag, the other boy was soundly asleep, wrapped up in the blankets with his back to Yosuke, only a bit of tousled grey hair visible.

Yosuke watched him for a while, absorbing the slow rise and fall of the blankets with every breath. The sight of him brought a wave of indescribable contentment… but there was unease there too, an undercurrent that Yosuke desperately wanted to ignore. 

_It’s over. It has to be over. There’s nothing left to fight,_ Yosuke told himself firmly, and forced himself into the kitchen to start the curry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many things I could talk about in notes for this chapter, but many of them would be spoilers for later chapters (hello there, main plot elements poking in!). So there's just one for now:
> 
> \- "Careful, idiot, they’re here!" is a direct quote from [Turn Away](http://archiveofourown.org/works/83086). No wonder Yosuke kept replaying that in his head and beating himself up.


End file.
